


The Mirror Crack'd from Side to Side

by shinykari (meinterrupted)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alt-future Steve is kind of a dick, Community: trope_bingo, Doppelcest, Doppelganger, Frottage, I don't really know - Freeform, I'm pretty sure this is hai pollai's fault, M/M, adversarial sex, but at this point it could be anyone, is this incest or masturbation?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:34:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meinterrupted/pseuds/shinykari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>The thing looked and sounded like him, only younger and cleaner. Maybe an LMD or a clone, he thought; who knows how many agencies had been trying to recreate the super-soldier-serum for years, why not the super-soldier himself?</em>
</p><p>Steve Rogers, meet Steve Rogers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mirror Crack'd from Side to Side

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure it was Sarah (haipollai) who originally asked for Steve/Steve porn on accident, and then my brain said YES PLEASE. So here, have some Steve/Steve smuttiness with some feels thrown in for good measure. The title is from [the novel of the same name](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Mirror_Crack'd_from_Side_to_Side) by Agatha Christie.
> 
> Thanks to Kates (twistedingenue) and Beths (someassemblingrequired) for cheerleading for me on this one. Any remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> This also fulfills the twin/doppelganger space for my Trope Bingo card.

Cap crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, staring across the table at the … whatever the hell it was standing just inside the door. The thing looked and sounded like him, only younger and cleaner. Maybe an LMD or a clone, he thought; who knows how many agencies had been trying to recreate the super-soldier-serum for years, why not the super-soldier himself? That wasn't the craziest thing he'd seen in his lifetime. Hell, it wasn't even the craziest thing he'd seen this _week._

"So," he said, quirking his lips up in a smirk, "what's the verdict, Stevie?"

"You seem to be completely human, and your DNA is a perfect match for mine," the clone said, his brow furrowed. "You're also the only thing that came through that portal, so you're not considered a danger at the moment."

"That doesn't sound like SHIELD," Cap snarked, scratching idly at his scruffy beard. "At least not the SHIELD I know."

The clone met his eyes steadily. "This isn't the SHIELD you know."

"Right, right, you people keep telling me that. That it's 2013, and that the US Government is still intact, and we're not currently being ruled by our hive-mind alien overlords. Of course," he added with a sneer, "I haven't been out of this room to see that for myself, so excuse me if I don't quite believe you."

"That's why I'm here," his clone said, a small smile on his face. "I'm your tour guide."

Cap blinked in confusion. "Wait, really?"

His clone's smile grew a bit wider. "Indeed. Since you are, apparently, Steven Grant Rogers aka Captain America, you're a hero, and should be treated accordingly."

Cap narrowed his eyes. "You say tour guide, but I kind of think you mean babysitter."

His clone--Steve--shrugged. "Call it what you want. But you have two options: sit in here and stare at the walls, or stick with me."

After a moment of indecision, Cap nodded sharply. "Well, at least you're better looking than the bricks."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Steve said, as he typed a security code into the keypad next to the door.

From the corner of his eye, Cap watched him punch in a series of numbers. He shot Steve a strange look when he realized he was using his mom's birthdate, but kept his mouth shut and stepped out into the hallway, paying close attention to any possibly entrances and exits. His ignominious entrance hadn't allowed him much time to observe his new environment, since the strain of time and/or dimensional travel (Pym hadn't been very clear on the specifics, crazy bastard) had scrambled his brain to the point where two lackeys had been able to subdue him and drag him off to the interrogation room. In the 24 hours since, he'd been questioned by what had to have been half of SHIELD's remaining personnel, including several people Cap had thought were dead. And now, he was being allowed to walk around their headquarters like a parody of an honored guest, receiving respectful head nods from everyone they passed.

"So you're, what? A figurehead? Someone they trot out for the cameras to pretend everything's still alright?" he finally asked.

Steve shook his head. "I know they told you. I'm Captain America, and I'm the leader of the Avengers."

"Yeah, that's what they told me," Cap drawled, making his disbelief clear. "You willing to prove it?"

Steve stopped and turned, meeting Cap's gaze steadily. His eyes were a sharper blue than Cap ever remembered his own being, and the skin around them was unlined by age and tragedy. But deep inside, simmering somewhere behind the hopeful patriotic bullshit, Cap could see the tiniest reflection of himself. Steve smiled and jerked his thumb. "Gym's this way."

There was yet another keypad at this door, and this time, it was Bucky's birthday that let them into the spacious gym. The walls were lined with every type of exercise equipment imaginable, and some that he didn't recognize. A half-size track circled the room, and the center was lined with mats for sparring. One whole wall was floor-to-ceiling windows, letting in acres of natural sunlight, and Cap couldn't stop himself from looking out at the broken, ruined skyline. Except...

"What the fuck is this?" he growled, whirling around to pin the clone by his neck to the wall. "You think you can trick me with pretty pictures? I know what my city looks like, and that isn't it."

Steve grabbed his wrist and twisted, freeing himself but not attacking. "I told you, this _isn't_ your city. It's 2013, and the war you fought hasn't happened."

Cap shook his head and backed away, unable to stomach looking out the window. "No. No, it isn't true. You're trying to con me. What are you, a Skrull? Life-Model Decoy?" He rushed Steve again, slamming his fists into the wall on either side of his head. " _Tell me!_ "

"I'm Steven Grant Rogers, born in Brooklyn, New York on July 4, 1918 to Sarah and Joseph Rogers. Right before my sixth birthday, my mom died of tuberculosis, and I went to the Eighth Avenue Orphanage. I met Bucky Barnes there when he moved in a few years later," Steve said. "We got a place together once we aged out, and lived together until Bucky enlisted."

"You could'a read that in any history book," Cap said, barely keeping his rage in check when the clone spoke Bucky's name. "Tell me something only I would know."

Steve licked his lips, then glanced upward to one of the many cameras around the room. "Tower protocol five-eight-one-six-three-mike."

A computerized voice answered, "Tower protocol 58163M, temporary shutdown of all recording devices, requested by Captain Steven Rogers. Authorization code, Captain Rogers?"

"Zero-nine-one-three-one-nine-three-zero."

"Authorization code accepted," the voice intoned. "Audio/visual recording off."

"What do you want to know?" Steve spat. "The names of all the bullies that beat me up in alleys and parking lots and movie theatres? The number of times me and Buck had to burn my old drawings to keep warm, and how most of those times it didn't work, so we slept skin-to-skin just to keep from freezing?" His voice grew louder with each question. "How it felt to watch him go off to war, leaving me behind because my body betrayed me every chance it got? How much it _hurt_ in that chamber, how it felt like I was being torn apart, piece by piece? How then I watched my men fight something that should have stayed in storybooks? How they fought and died at my command, and how I felt every single wound they took as if it were my own? _What do you want to know!?!?_ "

Cap let out a shuddering breath and crowded closer to Steve. "Show me. Show me it's real."

Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Steve was moving, ducking under Cap's outstretched arms and wrapping his own around Cap's waist and shoving his shoulder heavily into Cap's midsection. Borne down by the other man's weight, Cap landed heavily on his back, but even winded, he managed to grapple with Steve and flip their positions until he was on top. Steve's elbow caught him in the gut as Cap slung a fist toward his pretty face, untouched by age and grief, sending drops of blood flying when it connected.

Steve grinned up at Cap, teeth tinged red, and wrapped his legs around Cap's waist, using his core muscles to lever them to a sitting position. Cap kicked out with one leg as he scrambled backward and to his feet. "That all you got, kid?" he taunted, cracking his neck. "I could do this all day."

He watched as the younger man climbed to his feet and wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "We're just getting started, old man," he said, and launched himself at Cap.

They fought savagely for several more minutes, neither gaining a clear upper hand. What small advantage Cap's experience gave him was nearly cancelled out by Steve's youth and a body not diminished by years of living on rations scavenged from burnt-out cities. They were both sweaty and panting, with more than a few cuts and bruises when Cap finally pinned Steve to the floor, face-down and legs spread. Cap hooked his feet around Steve's thighs and wrapped one arm around Steve's neck and anchored it with his other. "Give up yet?" he said, his lips brushing the shell of Steve's ear.

Instead of tapping out or fighting back, Steve let out a shuddering breath and arched his spine. Cap's eyes fluttered shut as the action put pressure on his hard cock--and when did he get hard anyway? He groaned and rutted against Steve's muscular back, as the younger man did the same to the floor.

Cap released his chokehold and flipped Steve onto his back and lined their bodies up so they were chest to chest. Steve's skin was damp and flushed, his blue eyes dark, and his lips were soft when Cap crushed their mouths together. He could feel the outline of Steve's erection against his own though their sweat-dampened clothing. "Fuck," Cap muttered, dragging his beard across Steve's slightly-stubbled cheek down to kiss his neck.

"Yeah, that's the plan," Steve answered as his blunt nails scraped Cap's scalp, holding him close. Cap bit down on the big tendon in Steve's neck, worrying it with his teeth until Steve bucked up hard. "Son of a bitch," he panted.

"Don't talk about our mother like that," Cap retorted as he lifted himself up on one forearm and slid his other hand past Steve's waistband to palm his cock. "She was a saint."

Steve's eyes fluttered shut as Cap flicked his thumb over the head of his dick. "Yeah, she was," he said, his words nearly lost in a grunt. "Now stop talking about her and take off your damn pants."

Cap chuckled and pulled his hand free, quickly undoing his fly while Steve did the same. Steve's cock looked just like his, from the nest of dark blond curls at the base, all the way to its slight bend to the left. The foreskin was fully retracted, exposing the head, which was flushed with arousal and leaking precome. Cap groaned when Steve thrust up, rubbing the silky skin of their dicks together.

Steve grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down for a harsh kiss that was more teeth than lips. They rutted against each other, Cap fucking Steve against the floor harder than he'd done with anyone since the Serum, knowing the body beneath him could take everything he had. For his part, Steve met him move-for-move, arching up to get more leverage and digging strong fingers into Cap's shoulders.

It didn't take much time at all for the slow spiral of orgasm to begin to build in Cap's belly. It had been too long since he'd been able to let himself go, to release the suspicion and readiness that was a daily fact of his life, and that was a better aphrodisiac than anything. "Gonna come," he panted into Steve's neck.

"Yeah, yeah," Steve said, his breath hot and damp against Cap's stubbled cheek, and that was enough. His come eased the way for Steve's thrusts, and soon enough, he came too, groaning wordlessly.

Panting and more relaxed than he'd ever been in recent memory, Cap rolled off Steve and onto the gym mats. Their mingled come was already cooling on his stomach and thighs and the top of his pants, but Cap wasn't ready to move quite yet. He let out a long sigh and turned to look at Steve. The other man's chest was heaving like it never did after a simple workout, his golden skin shiny with sweat. Steve's blond hair was damp at the temples, and the edges of his lips were turned up just slightly. "You believe me now?" he asked without looking at Cap.

After a long, silent moment, Cap looked back up at the ceiling. "Yeah, I think I do." He stripped off his threadbare tee shirt and wiped himself off quickly and efficiently, tossing the shirt to Steve before he sat up to redo his pants. "So what the hell are we gonna do about it?"

Next to him, Steve cleaned up much more slowly. When he was finally decent, he sat up and looked into Cap's eyes. "We find out where your world went wrong, and make sure that doesn't happen here. Hopefully, we'll find a way to help you and yours while we're at it. Sound like a plan?"

Cap nodded. "Lead the way, Captain."


End file.
